by Tricia Barr
With his eagle eyes, Oberon saw witnesses pointing and exclaiming one to another. A few of them held phones up, and he knew he’d been recorded. No doubt, a gryphon sighting would hit the news. No doubt the vampires would be hot on his tracks. If a flock of gryphons were indeed around, he’d just spoiled their trouble of hiding. He had to get out of sight and land somewhere so he could shift back to human form. Hopefully Ren would be hot on his feathers, carrying his winter gear along. Because it was going to be really cold for both he and the girl when he shifted.
Speaking of cold, the girl shivered in his grasp, and he knew his body heat was only providing so much comfort. He needed to get her somewhere well-heated. Unfortunately, Oberon didn’t keep open the window of the hotel room he and Ren had been staying in. There was no way of just flying in.
Suddenly, the girl let loose a piercing scream, and Oberon assumed she had just realized she was flying in the arms of some big beast.
“It’s all right,” he said softly. “I’ve got to get you to safety.”
His attempt at calming the girl failed. She fidgeted and screamed all the louder, and Oberon knew he was only going to draw more attention. Seeing a patch of trees lining a part of the bank, he angled himself their way.
Once he cleared the welcoming foliage, he slowed until he felt safe enough to let the girl go. She landed with a soft thump, and Oberon grounded beside her. He didn’t wait another moment to shift back to human form.
The girl’s shrieking ended abruptly as he returned to normal, standing in nothing but his glorified underwear.
“High winds, it’s cold,” he said, throwing his arms around himself.
The soaked girl was pointing at him, her arm shivering. He could hear her teeth chattering. “You’re a... you’re a...”
“Hero?” he offered. Oberon shook his head. “I saw somebody who was about to drown and I reacted.”
“You’re a bird-man!” she finally said, scurrying backward and kicking up powdery snow. She hadn’t made it to her feet since landing.
Bird-man?
He held his hands up. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Footsteps sounded through the trees, and Oberon whirled about, taking a defensive stance. They weren’t consistent: pit-pat-pause, pit-pat-pause, pit-pause, pat-pause.
Please be Ren, he begged to the sky. If it was anybody else, they’d be wondering what an almost-naked man was doing with a teenage girl in the confines of the trees.
Out of one of the trees, Ren phased.
Oberon chuckled. “That explains the randomness of your footsteps. You couldn’t even duck around the trees, could you?”
Glancing at the girl, Oberon saw her eyes widen, her finger now pointing at Ren.
“Why go to all that work?” Ren said, winded from his mad dash to catch up. Under his arm was Oberon’s winter clothing, and he gladly accepted it.
Getting himself appropriately covered, he indicated to the girl. “Can you see to her? I’m afraid she’s going into shock, although, whether it’s from freezing water or witnessing us using our abilities, I can’t tell.”
Ren snapped his fingers. “I have just the thing.” Removing his backpack, he undid the drawstring and rummaged around a bit. “Honestly, I thought we’d end up having to use it first.”
He pulled a foot-long metal stick, then tapped the top. Blue lights at the top and bottom came on, and the stick suddenly extended and bowed, growing four times its original length.
“What in the world is that?” Oberon asked, slipping his now sock-covered feet into his boots
“A personal dehumidifier, heater mode enabled,” Ren said, giving a thumbs up. He held it at its center and walked toward the girl. She’d gotten to her feet and was shaking uncontrollably, steam puffing from her lips in hurried breaths.
“Stay... away!” She backed into a tree and lost her balance. Ren ran to her side, holding the bowed dehumidifier forward. Her scared expression lightened as her clothing visibly dried out.
Oberon raised his eyebrows in surprise. Ren had kept his little contraption a secret. It was an extremely useful device, especially for this part of the world.
“That’s amazing,” the girl said, her pale lips returning to a pinkish hue.
“Quite a handy tool.” Ren twirled the device in his hands like a bow staff. He turned back to Oberon and winked. “I call it the Hot Rod.”
Oberon shook his head. “I think there are cars that have already claimed that title.”
“Which has never made sense to me,” Ren said. “Why would a car ever be referred to as a rod?”
Oberon shrugged, then looked past his friend. The girl had her gloved hands held out toward the Hot Rod, taking in its warmth.
Zipping up his coat, Oberon made his way over to her. “What’s your name?”
She gave him a distrusting look with her deep, dark brown eyes. They slowly softened, though, like ice melting in sunlight. “Kathrine.”
“Hi Kathrine,” he replied. “My name is Oberon, and this is my friend Ren.”
Ren gave her a cheesy smile, then held the device closer to her. She nodded in thanks, but didn’t return the smile.
“Kathrine,” Oberon said, “might I ask you what happened back there in the river? How did you fall in?”
She threw her glance to the snow-covered ground, and Oberon sensed her attempt to conceal guilt. He’d been around enough teenagers to detect such vibes.
“Nothing,” she mumbled.
“Nothing?” he asked. The response was a sure sign that she’d meant quite the opposite. “Look, I know we’re strangers, and that you have no real reason to trust me. But I’m a school director...” He cleared his throat. “I’m a principle of a school, and work with boys and girls about your age.”
She shrugged quickly. “I fell in. Big deal.”
He half-smiled and looked down at his feet, then back up at her. “Before you fell in, I saw you standing on the other side of the fence. You’ll forgive me for finding it hard to believe that you merely fell in.”
Oberon watched her and saw the pain in her eyes—saw the hurt set therein. Her shoulders drooped, and her head bowed.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” she said softly, folding her arms across her chest, her parka fluffing out from the compression. “You don’t understand. I can’t go back.”
Ren gave him a worried look. Oberon walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“I won’t claim to know what you’re running from, Kathrine,” he said. “But I will tell you that I have a special place in my heart for those who have suffered at home.”
She looked up into his eyes with sad wonder. “I didn’t say anything about... How do you know about what I’m going through?”
He gave her a warm smile. “Your eyes tell the story—at the very least, pieces.”
Kathrine bit her lip, then finally spoke. “My parents died when I was young. I’ve lived with foster families. And I just can’t take it anymore.”
Pity coursed through Oberon like water in a river, looking for an outlet. His emotions threatened to take over, his eyes beginning to water. This girl prompted an explosion of memories.
“Mr. Oberon?” she asked.
He sniffed, bringing his eyes and mind back into focus. “Forgive me. Your words—they triggered some thoughts about my wife, Seri. She, like you, grew up in foster care, and when it became very apparent how different she was...” Oberon trailed off.
“What happened to her?” asked Kathrine.
“My father found her and brought her to the school I was attending,” he said. “It was a place where she felt like she finally fit in.”
And then Oberon watched a transformation in Kathrine’s brown eyes. Hope. The very thing that drove Oberon to lead a school. Of all the shifts in the world, the magical change from hopelessness to hope was the most wondrous of all.
But this girl was no shifter, and would find no solace at a place like the Dome.
&n
bsp; “Is there room at the school for me?” she asked.
Oberon sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, I’m no longer a school director. My career has... changed.” He looked at Ren. “But what I do now is go looking for those who are lost. I try to give them guidance.”
Her hope began to fade as he spoke, and he held up a hand. “Just because I have no say at the school I used to lead doesn’t mean you are without hope. Kathrine, there is a place for you in this world, and I can promise you, it’s not in a river. But you must have the courage to find your place and not give up. I promise that if you look hard enough, you’ll find it.”
Again, Kathrine bit her lip as her eyes went distant. After several moments, she nodded. “You’re right. I can feel it.” She tapped her chest. “Right here.”
Oberon smiled. “I’d be lying if I said it’ll be easy. But keep my words in mind. You’ll find your way.”
She looked back at him. “And what about you? Where will you go?”
“I’m still looking for my way,” Oberon said. “I suppose that’s life.”
Kathrine mulled his words over for a moment. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Nodding, Oberon said, “Me too. Now run along. Ren and I have some business we must see to.”
She nodded, then walked between two trees before looking back. “Will I ever see you guys again?”
Oberon chuckled. “You might, Kathrine. You just might.”
She smiled and waved, then turned and walked out of sight.
“You know, Oberon,” Ren said, twirling the Hot Rod, “You’ve still got the touch, even without the title.”
Oberon grinned at the compliment. “Thank you, my friend. After that experience, my hope seems to have been restored. Now, let’s go see if we can find those gryphons.”
Chapter 22: Kenzie
Kenzie climbed the stairs to the lobby, her footsteps feeling heavier than normal. Sure, the stairs were still bugging her, though her body was starting to get used to them—was the Dome so upwardly inclined? She hoped not, but if so, at least she’d be ready. But this time she traveled the stairs in response to a summons. She wondered what Draven had in mind. She’d been successful at staying under the radar since her arrival, but apparently time was up.
And she hadn’t even gotten a chance to check on Leif. He was so out of it last time. That he thought she was Gemma was both frightening and flattering. But she knew her betrayal had to hurt more if he thought it came from Gemma. She wanted to tell him her plan, but she couldn’t. She’d tried using her spell to contact him, but he’d been almost incoherent. There was no getting any information through to his mind. And even if she could, she didn’t want him blabbing it.
No, for now he’d have to suffer. She just hoped he’d be able to recover. And that he’d be able to forgive her for it.
And there was still the mystery of how to get Kol and the other dragon out. Myreen’s request wasn’t even necessary. There was no way Kenzie was leaving them here.
Ty, however, was another story. Kenzie had a feeling Draven wouldn’t let them just take his son away. But how to break the news to Myreen? And she still hadn’t gotten Myreen to agree to leave. That worried her the most. Was Myreen being brainwashed? Sure, Draven was a cutie, but he seemed laced with sinister intentions. Why couldn’t Myreen see that?
Kenzie tried to clear her thoughts as she came up to the door to Draven’s trophy room. The place totally creeped her out, but she couldn’t think about that. She had to stay focused, purposeful. If not? Well, failure wasn’t really an option.
She took a breath and knocked on the door, which immediately opened inward.
Draven drank a deep breath, then smiled. “Ah, my favorite selkie has arrived. Thanks for coming.”
Kenzie nodded, then stepped in, beelining to a seat before her quaking legs could give her away.
Draven sat behind his desk, steepling his fingers on top of the dark, smooth surface. He almost looked scholarly with his chin stubble. A pair of glasses would complete the picture, though she didn’t suppose a vampire would have need for those.
“So, you’ve asked to attend this school, but I’m afraid we were cut short before we could discuss what that looked like.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” Truth be told, she’d been so preoccupied with her mission she hadn’t given much thought to that initial exchange. Sure, she’d floated around the classrooms, trying to stay under the radar and glean as much info as she could, but she’d spent most of her time trying to figure a way to get everyone out—too bad she still didn’t have a solid escape plan. Kenzie flashed a grin. “Got any magic classes?”
Draven laughed good-naturedly. “No, I’m afraid not, though I’d be happy to give you room to exercise your skills.”
“Thank you,” was all Kenzie could come up with. She was both stunned and a bit nervous by the offer, eager to use her powers but anxious to consider how she’d be expected to use them.
“I’ll have one of the teachers draw up a schedule for you, with a free period for your magic, of course. Adam has been speaking of you.”
Kenzie’s face puckered and her brows lifted. “All good things, I hope.”
Draven smiled, the look more predatory than friendly. “Of course. I’ve informed him that he’s earned his place in the vampire ranks. He’s interested in taking an Initiate, specifically you.”
Kenzie’s cheeks reddened. “He may have mentioned that.”
“I’m a little hesitant to assign you to him. Freshly turned vampires can sometimes be unreliable, and I’d hate for him to do something stupid.”
Kenzie pulled her lips in and bit on them, hoping against hope that Draven would see fit to ignore Adam’s request.
“But he’s particularly taken with you, and he comes from good stock. If I have your permission, I’ll arrange the pairing. I assume you have ample magic to take care of yourself in the unlikely event that Adam forgets his manners?”
The way Draven looked at her, Kenzie wasn’t sure she really had a choice. If she said no, then what? Would she be assigned to another vampire? She at least knew the devil she’d be working with if she accepted Adam. Now wasn’t the best time to gamble.
Kenzie took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess that would be fine. Adam and I have some... history.”
Draven smiled. “Excellent. I have one more request for you before I send you on your way. I’m afraid it involves another trip to the top of the citadel. Do you mind?”
Kenzie shook her head, again sensing that this was more of a command than a request, despite the way it was phrased. “At least this time the school isn’t under attack.” Kenzie laughed, but Draven didn’t join her, and the laughter died on her lips.
“Indeed.” He stood up and started toward the door, and Kenzie scrambled to follow, wondering what the heck she was getting herself into.
***
The long elevator ride was again excruciating. Kenzie didn’t think she’d ever get used to being in a closed space with someone so dangerous and powerful. Her mind flitted to the Dome, and she wondered if being around the shifters would give her the same sensation. She doubted it, though she knew shifters were just as powerful in their own ways.
She tried very hard not to think of a certain feline shifter, his spiced chai eyes following her every movement.
When they reached the room of stairwells, Draven went to one near the center, yellow caution tape hanging limply to the railing. They traveled upward until they reached a room that had obviously taken damage in the attack. The exterior wall had been replaced with some sort of material, though the color and texture were off. It was more charcoal than obsidian, rougher than the smooth walls predating the repair. Draven sneered at it, but moved to one side where a smooth metal panel stood. Kenzie followed him, wondering if this was another elevator, and if so, just how tall was this tower?
Instead, it opened to another set of stairs shrouded in darkness. Kenzie groaned inwardly, afraid to voi
ce her reluctance, and again followed Draven. Luckily there was only the one flight of stairs, and Beatrice was already at the top.
Beatrice looked at Draven and smiled. “I’ve done as you asked. Leif is in the Sunroom.”
“Excellent. Kenzie, I’d like you to do the honors.”
Kenzie looked back and forth between the two. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What would you like me to do?”
Draven pointed to a crank on the wall. “Rotate that a few times and you’ll see.”
Kenzie stepped forward, for the first time realizing that one of the walls in this narrow space was glass. She could almost see a figure out there, and she figured it must be Leif. Dread pooled in the pits of her arms and stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
She shuffled toward the crank, smiling at Draven and Beatrice who were both watching her closely. Taking a deep breath, she braced for what would come next. A Sunroom sounded like a lovely thing—until you put a sun-allergic vampire inside.
Kenzie pushed on the crank, and it spun easily, much to her dismay. Light began to pour in, first in a sliver, then widening. Leif pushed back to the edge of the room as the beam of light got bigger and bigger. Kenzie looked to Draven, hoping he’d give her a signal to stop, but he didn’t, his eyes now focused on Leif. Beatrice stood beside him, her posture rigid.
Kenzie’s stomach rolled as she saw the angry red welts standing up on Leif’s skin. Part of her was glad his daywalking ability was still gone, otherwise her cover would be blown. But seeing him writhe under the power of the sun made her want to tear out her own heart.
Kenzie wanted out. She could hardly stand to stay here another day. And Leif! How much longer could he last under these conditions? The room obviously had some protection against the sun, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
At last, Draven signaled and Kenzie reversed the crank with more gusto than the first time. The light slowly closed until the room was once again shrouded in darkness. But Leif’s cries carried on. She wanted to throw herself on the floor and weep, but Kenzie bottled it up and buried it deep inside. She couldn’t show Draven any weakness. Not even a shred.